Need is no vice at all; though here it be,
With men, a loathed inconveniencie.

Adversity hurts none, but onely such
Whom whitest Fortune dandled has too much.

At Post and Paire, or Slam, Tom Tuck would play
This Christmas, but his want wherwith, sayes Nay.

Let us now take time, and play,
Love, and live here while we may;
Drink rich wine; and make good cheere,
While we have our being here:
For, once dead, and laid i'th grave,
No return from thence we have.

Hog has a place i'th'Kitchen, and his share
The flimsie Livers, and blew Gizzards are.

Women, although they ne're so goodly make it,
Their fashion is, but to say no, to take it.

Ralph pares his nayles, his warts, his cornes, and Raph
In sev'rall tills, and boxes keepes 'em safe;
Instead of Harts-horne (if he speakes the troth)
To make a lustie-gellie for his broth.

M. Elizabeth Finch

Hansome you are, and Proper you will be
Despight of all your infortunitie:
Live long and lovely, but yet grow no lesse
In that your owne prefixed comelinesse:
Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,
Leave others Beauty, to set up withall.

This Axiom I have often heard,
Kings ought to be more lov'd, then fear'd.

In this misfortune Kings doe most excell,
To heare the worst from men, when they doe well.